This is a tale of alcohol, dancing and intrigue. Okay, no intrigue. But plenty of alcohol. After finishing the Inca Trail I was feeling grooveless and lacked the joy of Cuscotopia music in my head. We briefly visited the Sun Temple and the Cathedral during the day which were mostly temply and cathedraly but with a single highlight each. The temple had a beautiful painting of an Incan interpretation of the Milky Way. Along its length they visualise various animals, including a serpent at its top, following down to a toad and a partridge, then a llama in the centre being chased by a fox with red eyes. It was a captivating painting and I wished I could have taken it home. Surprisingly, it was a painting that also caught my attention in the cathedral, but not quite for the same reason. It was a Last Supper with a difference – the centre course being guinea pig. It seemed almost blasphemous, but apparently they all love it.
My legs were absolutely killing me; my shins had packed it in and I was left pondering the great, great, great, great, great, great……great, great length of time that it would be before I would be able to go for a run again. However, it was our last night in Cusco, so I pressed on as we went out for dinner at a lovely Peruvian restaurant serving typical local food. As a surprise, our lovely tour guide Tito had organised Pisco for us and we had a combination of Pisco sours (handmade with love by Tito) and Pisco with ginger ale, which both I surprisingly liked.
During dinner a local band of four brothers played Peruvian music using drums, pan pipes, acoustic guitars and a series of guitar and pipe cousins. Normally when these kinds of bands play you feel overwhelmed with touristy tack and almost want to pay them to shut up, but this band was spectacular. They didn’t play with amplifiers (which made a huge difference) and their music was generally a lot slower and more dignified. Much of it was a tribute to Pachamama (essentially mother Earth) and the gifts that she has bestowed on us. It was a beautiful song and dance of gratitude and happiness, and consequently was delightful to listen/watch.
After dinner we went out to a club nearby that were giving free salsa lessons. I was going to get my groove on…until we realised that they weren’t beginners. So, we drank instead. I did get up briefly and grooved with Tito, but he moved far too quickly for me and my throbbing shins. I think I threw off his groove (I’m sorry….). So I decided to drink the Malibu. The Malibu for Mel. The Malibu intended to intoxicate Mel. Mel’s Malibu. MELibu. Right…. *exaggerated wink*.
A few drinks later and my shins were of the past. We carved up the dance floor with our newly found groove to songs that I’d rather not remember and my sister would be proud. HOWEVER….they did play some golden tracks. Ice Ice Baby, We will rock you, Jump around, and God help us all…..Cotton Eye Joe. Yeah baby!! I danced a little with a guy from Argentina who whipped me across the dance floor in style. I love the combination of a guy that knows how to dance and me being intoxicated, because it feels like I’m dancing, yeah…
The club started to get, how would you describe it?? Scary beyond all reason? Yeah, that’s it. Everyone was quite intoxicated – Bindi was up dancing on the bar and moments later the barman was taking a shot off her stomach. Attagirl. Tito couldn’t speak Spanish let alone English, and our cameras were taking nasty, nasty reminders of a night of overindulgence. AWE. SOME.
We eventually got home around three after a bloody fantastic night out. We had to put Tito to bed because he could barely walk, and my plans to continue to party with Andrew were out the door as soon as my head touched the pillow.
When I woke this morning to catch the flight, I was still drunk and had the entire day to feel my hangover set in. For some reason unknown to man, my shins are actually better today even after jumping around like a madman for hours last night at the club, which has made my hangover a little less painful. Still, I feel awful sorry for myself and half expect people to cry ‘demon llama’ and run away. *wails* llama face *sobs*. Hopefully a good night’s sleep will enable me to explore Lima tomorrow. Yeah, communism, blah, blah.
Go get your groove on (insert Cuscotopia circus music here).
